A Twist In My Story
by bellaandeddie1
Summary: I know this has been so overdone, but Harry and Brandon Potter are twins. Brandon is the boy-who-lived (yes, the real one.) Growing up mistreated, will Harry go over to the Dark Side or forgive his family and stay light? Either way it will be a slash, HP/LV unless I decide to change it later on. Anyway, enjoy! (discontinued; sorry guys, I thought it would be better.)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: before I start this story, I'd just like to say thank you for reading this and it's the first story I've written and actually published, so no flames…please? Anyway, sorry for any grammar mistakes but I have no beta; enjoy!

Warning: contains neglect/abuse and somewhat manipulation

 **October 31** **st** **, 1981**

"Lily, grab the kids! Run! Go, I'll-" The young father didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because he was hit with a spell that sent him crashing to the floor, immobile and barely alive. Lord Voldemort stood behind the body, griping his wand tightly.

The cries of small children tore through the house at that moment and Voldemort stepped over James Potter's body, his Death Eaters in tow. Making little noise, Lord Voldemort crept up the stairs leading to the nursery and the target. Finally reaching the nursery, he blasted the door off its hinges and into Lily Potter's body; the woman was unconscious immediately and Voldemort smirked, _they make it far too easy_ , he thought before looking over at the children.

"So, one of you are supposed to beat me, hmm?" He chuckled at their tearful faces. "Mm, which one? Decisions, decisions…" He eyed the children, noting that they were identical…well, except for their eyes. One twin, the thinner of the two, had green eyes, however the fatter of the two had brown eyes. _Interesting_ , he smirked again, then turned his wand on the brown-eyed child. He absolutely despised the color of brown, it only served to remind him of an awful childhood, so he'd be rid of it.

"Avada Kedavra," He yelled as a familiar green light flew from his wand towards the child, but what he didn't expect was the other child's magic reaching out to his twin and blocking it, sending the killing curse right back and Lord Voldemort and creating a scar on the brown-eyed baby's forehead.

As Voldemort's body collapsed into dust, the Death Eaters scrambled to clear out but were met by an angry James Potter and a solemn Albus Dumbledore before they could get out. Within thirty minutes everything was counted for and recovered, including the children and Lily.

"Well," Dumbledore spoke to the terrified family, "It seems that little Brandon here has defeated Lord Voldemort." Lily and James shook at the mention of the name.

"So he's the prophecy child, headmaster?" Lily asked, looking at the brown-eyed child who just blinked dully.

"He bares the mark, Lils." James said, smiling.

"What will this mean for him and Harry, headmaster?" Lily asked in concern.

"Brandon will need to be trained once he's old enough to start, but until then you should focus on him. You need to make sure he is the opposite of Voldemort-" Lily and James shuddered again. "And by that I mean growing up well-loved and wanting for nothing. It would be ideal if you could leave little Harry somewhere else, but I can only imagine what the public would say." Dumbledore said wisely.

"Wait, you want to train him? I thought Brandon already defeated the Dark Lord, why would he need to train?" James asked worriedly, while Lily looked over at Harry thoughtfully. _Would it be so bad if Harry didn't get so much attention?_ She thought, toying with the idea that Dumbledore presented. After all, she was sure Harry would understand one day…

"The Dark Lord has made some precautions against death, thus there is a great chance of him coming back. Brandon _**must**_ defeat him when he does and in order to do so he must be trained." Dumbledore explained as James and Lily thought it over.

Sharing a look, it was decided. Grabbing James' hand, Lily sat up straight and looked Dumbledore in the eye. "We will agree to this, however we also know that Harry will want to be included in Brandon's training, so we ask that Harry be allowed to train, too."

The twinkle in the old man's eye hardened, but he smiled as an idea came to him. "Ah, as you wish Lily, however it won't be as strenuous for him as it is for Brandon. After all, Brandon is the Boy-Who-Lived and Harry…well, Harry just doesn't have the magical capabilities." Lily and James nodded happily.

"We understand, headmaster. Thank you." Lily gave him a smile and then clapped her hands together, standing. "Well, I think this has been a long enough day, so I think we should all get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll need to start redecorating and move Harry into a new room, I'm thinking the Attic?" Lily looked to James for conformation.

"Yes, of course, Lils. Anything you want. Hey, maybe you can even get those new curtains you wanted?" James grinned at Lily's now beaming face.

"Well, Lily is right. I best be leaving before the Daily Prophet gets wind of the story and blows it into something it's not." Dumbledore got up wearily, hearing his knees cracking with old age.

"Do you need any help, professor?" Lily asked kindly.

"Not at all, my dear. Not at all. It is merely old age calling me." He chuckled and headed towards the door, before turning back. "Lily, James, the next few days will be hard, but keep your heads up and I shall see you next week." With that, he left.

 **July 31** **st** **, 1988**

Many things have changed since that Halloween night. The first thing to change was the placement and primary care of both twins. Though they grew up in the same house with the connection that all twins have, they grew apart. Harry was raised by house elves while Brandon was raised by James, Lily, nurse maids, and his godfathers.

When Harry first realized that his parents had abandoned him, he was three. Lily had been trying to get Brandon to read, but when Harry asked to learn…let's just say she wasn't too happy and Harry was sent to bed without being allowed lunch or dinner. Thanks to the House Elves, Harry had gotten to eat what was left over from his family's dinner that night because one of the House Elves had heard him crying and willingly given over its food to help the young master. The next day Harry had sought out the House Elf and begged the elf to teach him to read. Reluctantly, but not going against orders, the elf named Gobly helped him to read and once he was capable, the elf showed him the library where he would spend most of his days afterward. Including his eighth birthday.

After seeing his brother being thrown large birthday bashes each year, Harry had finally decided to stay in the library and wait it out. Books were his only escape from the horrible reality that Harry was used to and he devoured books like his brother ate candy. He lived a simple existence; he didn't take up much room and he avoided his parents like the plague, not wanting to be rejected like the times before.

"Ahem." Harry startled badly and looked up at the old man in front of him. _Dumbledore_ , he thought with contempt.

"Yes?" He asked quietly, unused to being spoken to by actual people.

"Are you ready?" The man asked with a genial grin.

"For what, Mr. Dumbledore?" Harry asked coolly, pulling his pureblood mask on to hide himself from the creepy headmaster.

"For your training, of course." Dumbledore chuckled. Before Harry could even begin to answer, Brandon's voice came from behind the door.

"But mummy! I don't _**want**_ Harry to train with me! It's not fair, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, not him!" Brandon whined.

"We know, Brandy, but we made a deal before we knew that Harry's a squib." Lily simpered, coming into the room with James and Brandon following along.

Harry wasn't stupid, he knew his parents thought he was a squib but he didn't think it mattered until now. "Headmaster," Harry said stoically. "How will I be trained if I'm a squib?"

In response, Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, my boy, you'll be training with Mr. Filch, the janitor at Hogwarts."

This gave Harry some pause. He had heard, of course, about the grumpy old janitor, but what Dumbledore didn't realize was that he was giving Harry full access to the castle and its grounds. Hiding his smirk well, he nodded towards the old man.

"Give me a few minutes to pack my bag and I'll leave with you." Harry took satisfaction when the twinkle in the old man's eye dimmed.

"Yes…yes, of course." The old man stated while Harry practically glided up the stairs to the attic. Hurriedly collecting his things he called for Gobly.

"Yes, young master?" The elf squeaked.

"No matter what my parents command you to do, if I call you, you must come. Understood?" Harry demanded.

"Understood." The elf bowed sadly and Harry sighed.

"This is goodbye for now, my friend." The elf shook slightly and stared at him.

"Friend, master?"

"You helped me when I needed it most, Gobly. You are the only one in the world I trust. Now, hurry along before they catch you up here." The elf left with a crack and Harry finished up packing just as James yelled for him downstairs.

"I'm here." He stated, walking next to Dumbledore.

"Finally." James muttered but Harry ignored him in favor of Dumbledore.

"Are we leaving by apparation, sir?" He asked quietly.

"Duh, I thought you were smart?!" Brandon smirk triumphantly while Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Honey, leave your brother alone. Now then, do you have everything?" Lily asked, clearly worried.

"Yes, mum." Brandon gave his mum and dad a kiss before hurrying out the door with Dumbledore and Harry behind him.

Gathering Harry and Brandon, Dumbledore and the boys were gone with a crack. To Harry it was the worst thing magic could possibly do. It felt as if he was being sucked up a small tube and his organs were being sucked apart. When it finally ended, Harry was forcing the bile in his throat to stay down. After a few minutes of recovery, he realized he was alone but up ahead was a beautiful castle. This castle was old, clearly, but it was beautiful and lit up, even in the day time. Drawing towards the castle in a slight daze, he noticed that standing in the doorway of the castle was a thin, unhealthy looking old man with a tabby cat at his feet.

"Potter." The man grunted and Harry noticed that he smelled really bad for someone who was supposed to clean a large castle.

Harry cleared his throat, "you're Mr. Filch, yes?"

"Don't be smart with me, you little brat. Follow me." Not wanting to upset the creepy man, he followed.

Minutes passed slowly as they walked down to Filch and Harry's new quarters. As time went on, Harry found himself admiring the stone work and the paintings that were staring right back at him. Finally, and maybe a bit sadly, they reached the corridor that held the rooms. Opening the door, Filch gave him an ugly glare.

"You had better not invite any little friends in here or I'll have your head, brat." Filch snarled. Looking around the musty, thread bare room, Harry swallowed hard and nodded. "Down that hall is your room on the left and the last room on the right is mine. The bathroom is the first on the right." With that, the bitter man went to his room and slammed the door.

Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to be around the cat, Harry went to his room and noted that it was just as musty and sad looking as the setting room. Sighing, he set his suit case down and began unpacking, though he didn't have much. Old clothes that were Brandon's rather big hand-me-downs (he had never lost his baby fat, in fact he'd gained some) and a few books that he liked. After putting things away, Harry relaxed on the bed falling asleep to the thoughts of a better life.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, so I'm on a chocolate rush and planning to pull an all-nighter. I didn't like how I ended the first chapter and I'm probably going to change it later, but for now I'm just going to continue on. P.s. yes, the title of the story is based on the Secondhand Serenade song.

Warnings: Some Explicit language in this chapter. Not much, but one or two is enough.

 **July 10** **th** **, 1991**

He couldn't believe it. After almost three years of living at Hogwarts and cleaning up after the students, Hogwarts felt like home. It had taken a while, but Filch had finally started warming up to him and he'd been allowed nearly unlimited access to the library for his 'training.' Since coming to Hogwarts, Harry hadn't seen hide nor hair of his twin and he liked it that way, but this…well, this dashed that plan. Not to mention that Filch would hate him after finding out.

Harry had been accepted to Hogwarts. Of course he'd known that there was a good chance that this would happen since he wasn't the squib everybody thought he was, but he _**had**_ hoped that because he was studying and practicing independently he wouldn't have to go to school, but apparently not. The worst part was that there was no avoiding his secret getting out; if he rejected the Hogwarts letter, there would be questions and they'd know about his magic. On the same token, if he accepted the invitation then they would know of him at the sorting.

Breathing deeply, he grabbed a quill and some parchment and wrote:

 _Dear Professor McGonagall,_

 _Thank you for accepting me into Hogwarts and I look forward to studying there. I do, however, have some concerns considering my lack of money for school supplies so if you would meet me at three O'clock in the main entrance of Hogwarts to talk about that, it would be much appreciated._

 _See you then,_

 _Harry Potter_

Sealing the letter, he turned to smile at his beloved owl, Hedwig. She had been the first present he'd ever gotten and, surprisingly, it had been Filch that had gifted her to him.

"Can you take this letter to professor McGonagall, girl?" He smiled lovingly at his owl who nipped his finger and hooted her assent, snatching the letter from his hand and flying out.

He shook his head in amusement and got up to go search for Filch. He dreaded telling the man, but he knew it would be better to tell him than let him find out on his own. Finally locating him in the abandoned girls' lavatory, he paused momentarily to gather his thoughts.

"Harry? Well, come on boy, help me clean these mirrors." Filch called across the room, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Okay." Harry grabbed a rag and scrubbed at the mirrors that were littered with some kind of red paint. They finished up quietly and Harry decided it would be more painful to prolong this. "Sir, can I tell you something?"

"Of course, Harry." The man grumped, but that wasn't unusual.

"Promise not to be mad, okay?" Harry practically begged.

"Harry!" Filch sighed in exasperation. "Just tell me already, I probably already know." The man smirked.

"I bet not." Harry muttered, then took a few calming breathes. "Listen, I-I got my Hogwarts letter this morning and I'm going." Harry said in a rush.

The man didn't even seem to blink, he just rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'm not blind, Harry. Mrs. Norris and I knew you were magical the moment you stepped into the castle, why do you think it took so long for me to warm up to you?"

Harry gaped. "You mean all this time you knew?" At the retched man's nod, he hissed in fury. "Do you know how fucking worried I was about telling you? I thought you'd hate me!" Harry seethed while the man laughed.

"I was just giving you time, Harry. I knew you'd tell me eventually." The squib huffed, though it was more playful than irritated.

"I guess." Harry sighed, his anger burnt out. "I almost forgot to tell you, I have an appointment at three with McGonagall to get money and maybe some supplies. That's okay, right?" Harry asked.

"Well, if you're going to Hogwarts, you'll need supplies. Don't worry about me, Harry. I'm getting by just fine without magic." Harry rolled his eyes at the last part.

"You think I haven't noticed the pamphlets in your desk for squib school?"

"You know I want magic and I'll admit that I am jealous of you having magic, but I like you, Harry. You are like a friend or the son I never had, so I don't begrudge you too much. I want you to be happy, Harry, and I'd like to see your parents' faces when they receive word that you have magic. However, word to the wise, you may want to watch your mouth from now on and start using that extensive vocabulary of yours instead of swear words."

"Yet you're the one I learned it from." Harry said cheekily. Filch swiped at him, but Harry was too quick. "See you later, roomie." Harry chuckled hearing the man grumble after him.

The ten year old made his way to the main entrance and waited a few minutes. Eventually, McGonagall arrived, looking rather disbelieving when Harry showed up in front of her.

"Hullo, professor." Harry pulled himself into a sophisticated stance and made full use of his pureblood mask.

"Mr. Potter." The woman said primly. She'd seen him around the castle, of course, but she hadn't known his name or that Brandon Potter even had a brother, let alone a twin.

"I believe I wrote about my financial situation, correct?" Harry asked calmly.

The woman eyed him for the longest of moments before pulling out a bag of Galleons. "Mr. Potter, before I give this to you I need to know why your parents aren't paying for you."

"It's simple professor; they think I'm a squib. They always have. Therefore, I know they won't be affording me the money to pay for supplies." Harry said blankly.

"Have you thought of telling them?" McGonagall asked almost desperately.

"Of course I have, but they wouldn't care. They never have. Now, if you'll kindly hand over the money then I'll be out of your hair." Harry smirked coldly. The strict old woman reluctantly handed him the bag, giving him a warning look.

"Do you need to be accompanied to Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter?"

"No, ma'am." Harry said sweetly, starting to walk towards the gates of Hogwarts, leaving a befuddled professor behind.

The walk to Hogsmeade was not long nor winding and he made it to the Three Broomsticks in record time. Happily walking into the grimy bar/motel, he flashed the bar maid a dazzling smile.

"Madam, may I use your floo?" He asked politely.

"Bless my soul." The woman giggled. "Quite the charmer you are. Yes, young man, you may use my floo." She winked and he gave her another smile. Heading over to the fireplace, he grabbed a small pinch of floo powder, threw in the fire, and called out Diagon Alley.

Like many things, he had never used floo powder before, so it was no surprise when he stumbled out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron. Quickly righting himself, he stood impeccably straight and looked around haughtily before noticing the bar owner.

"You are Tom, right?" Harry asked the balding man quietly.

"Tha' I am, boy. You need into the alley?" At Harry's nod, the man stepped over to a brick wall, pressing his wand in a pattern Harry was determined to remember.

His first glimpse of Diagon alley was the most remarkable thing he'd ever seen. Compared to Hogsmeade or Godric's Hollow, this place was the city of gold. From the pristine and well-made cobblestone walkway to the many clean, vibrant shops, Harry could see what made this place great. It was really too bad he didn't have time to look around or else he would, but for now he was on a mission. Looking at the list, he decided that getting a wand was the first and most important thing on the list.

Entering Ollivanders wand shop, Harry felt a shiver go up his spine but ignored it in favor of getting the white-haired, bug-eyed shop owner.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I knew you would turn up. Albus tried to make me believe that you were a squib but I knew." The man gave him a wane smile and Harry straightened his shoulders.

"I just want a wand, sir."

"Of course. Come along, Mr. Potter." The elderly man left the corner and started taking measurements of Harry. "What is the subject you are best at?"

Harry paused, thinking. "Defense, I'm almost positive."

"Hmm. I'll be back."

Harry waited patiently for the man, looking around and taking in the wooden shack. The wands were stored in what looked to be shoe boxes and they were covered in dust. In fact, most of the shop was covered in dust, but he supposed it had something to do with the wood that the shop as made of. Was it oak?

He was distracted from his boring thoughts by the entrance of Ollivander carrying a dark wand. "This wand is as close to the elder wand as possible and it is very powerful, as well as special. I've waited a long time to match this wand, and I hope it will accept you." He handed Harry the wand and it immediately exploded into a range of colors. It was singing to him.

"What is it made of?" Harry whispered, admiring the beautiful wand.

"Root of a dead spruce tree and hair of unicorn, willingly given. The wand is essentially its own Yin and Yang, Light and Dark. Take great care of this wand Harry Potter and you shall do great things." Ollivander turned and walked out of sight so Harry took that as his que to leave.

Still shaken from the experience, Harry chose to get robes next. Because Hogwarts had allowed him such a fund, Harry was able to buy the most expensive robes in Diagon Alley and maybe the entirety of Great Britain. He got rich blues and greens, as well as the required black robes.

Feeling good, Harry bought the rest of his supplies and flooed back to the Three Broomsticks without much trouble. As he walked, he pulled out one of the books that he had bought as extracurricular reading. The title was peculiar but interesting: _The Art Of Living By: Arnold Petrowski._ The more he read, the more interesting it became. It was more a book on psychology than magic, but it seemed to be a different, muggle kind of medicine.

Not paying attention, the studious boy didn't realize that he was already at Hogwarts until a voice was cleared. Jumping, Harry's head shot up and he tensed until he seen that it was merely Filch.

"Bloody hell, man. Are you _**trying**_ to give me a heart attack?" Harry gasped.

"I can't mess with you if you're dead, Harry. And what did I tell you about that mouth?" Filch huffed.

"Yea, yea, will you help me bring my bags to the rooms?" Filch stared at the large, heavy bags in horror.

"Bloody brat."

"It's what I'm best at."

 **July 31** **st** **, 1991**

"Surprise!"

"Meow."

Opening his eyes, he looked down at the pressure on his lap. It was a tray of eggs, bacon, celery, pumpkin juice, scones, and a bowl of grapes.

"Wow, thanks!" Harry grinned at Filch and Mrs. Norris then dug in.

"You need to work on your table manners, young man." Filch berated playfully.

"Yea, like I don't have manners." Harry snorted, but Filch just gave his shirt a pointed look. Looking down, he noticed the grease stains on his shirt then shrugged. "So I need to invest in a drop cloth?" Harry and Filch laughed for a while.

"Ah, Harry, I'm going to miss you when you leave." Filch said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Who said I was leaving? Honestly, I'll still see you every day and I'll come here plenty."

"You will?" Filch asked solemnly.

"Yes. Filch, you're my only friend besides an elf I rarely see." Harry said soothingly.

"It's just that…well…no one likes me, Harry. I'm practically an evil hermit."

"Hey, if you want to fix that then you know what you need to do. You need to leave the magical world or come to terms with the fact that you're a squib. You also need to clean yourself up before you look like Snape." Harry sniggered and Filch scowled petulantly.

"I will not."

"Keep saying that, my friend. Now what about a present?" Harry asked excitedly.

"I don't know what you mean." Filch sniffed and Harry pushed him playfully.

"Come on, please?" Harry gave him puppy-dog eyes and Filch reluctantly gave in.

"Fine, brat, come on." Harry followed the man into the sitting room, noticing the difference from when he had first arrived. It was clean and the furniture looked almost new with the touch ups Harry had put in place.

Sitting on the couch he once fixed, there was a large, long box and Harry opened it with excitement. A broomstick! Not only that, but a Nimbus 2000!

"Oh Merlin, you must have spent a _**fortune**_ on this!" Harry gaped at the man who shrugged.

"It was worth it. I've seen you on those school brooms and you're an amazing flyer. I bet you'll be a seeker when you are allowed to join the Quidditch team."

"Oh, you want to bet?" Harry raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"No, that would be taking your money, because I know I'll win."

"Fine." Harry stuck out his tongue childishly. "I'm going to go try out my broom on the quidditch pitch, okay?"

"You know I don't mind or I wouldn't have bought it." He chuckled, ruffling Harry's hair and earning a scowl.

"I know. Thanks, by the way. I absolutely love it." He hugged Filch who just huffed and waved him off.

"Go try out the broom, I'll pick up your chores for the day. Be in by sunset, I have another surprise." Filch smiled and Harry smiled back.

"You spoil me so." Harry shook his head, grabbed the broom, and headed outside.

Minutes later, Harry was flying through the sky freely, though thoughtful. Sometimes he thought of his twin, sometimes he thought of his parents and sometimes he thought of Voldemort. He thought of his twin because he tended to worry about the slightly older boy; no matter how mean he was to Harry, Brandon was still his brother. As James and Lily was still his parents, though he didn't much care for them. He mostly wondered what they would be like if they cared about him, though he knew it was a silly dream. As for Voldemort, well, there was just something interesting about him. He was a puzzle, it seemed, and Harry liked puzzles. He had studied everything from books to scholar papers to newspaper clippings to find out what he could about him. Based on the clues Dumbledore had left out in the open, Voldemort would be coming back and Harry wasn't so sure he was against him.

That thought alone stopped him cold and he lowered his broom to the ground. Sighing, he wiped his face and tried to ignore the seemingly ridiculous thoughts. One thought, however, kept bothering him.

 _What would happen if I joined Lord Voldemort?_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Still pulling an all-nighter and I'm bored. ADHD, you know? Anyway, I know that last chapter that there was a lot of Filch's character, but I think he's a really lonely old man and, since it fits in with the story so nicely, I figured it would be okay. Also, in regards to calling him by his last name, I feel like he didn't like his first name (who would?) btw, I have a feeling Filch will remain a supporting character or I'll kill him off. Feel free to review and give your opinion!

Disclaimer: this chapter contains parts from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone, which I most certainly do not own. J.K. Rowling owns it and she's wonderful.

Warnings: none for this chapter.

 **September 1** **st** **, 1991**

Today was the day. The day that his secret would be out and his first real day of school. The nervousness building in his stomach made him queasy but he forced it down. He was determined to stay strong and keep his head held high through it all.

"Harry?" Harry looked at the man looming in the doorway.

"Yea?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Filch looked genuinely concerned and Harry felt terrible for making the poor man worry.

"Yea, I'm just nervous." Filch looked oddly lost for a moment before sitting down on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Listen, I'm not really good with kids. Obvious, I know. I can't just tell you not to be nervous because that won't work, but what I can tell you is that you aren't the only one. Everyone has secrets, Harry, and most of the time they come out. Do not be afraid of what could happen." Filch said wisely.

"Thanks, I think I needed that." Filch pulled Harry into a quick hug then let go, clapping him on the shoulder.

"You'll do great, Harry. I promise you will see." He left, but Harry's mind was running full speed ahead.

He thought back to a month ago. His biggest secret of all was thinking about joining the Dark Lord when he came back into power and if that ever got out…he shivered just thinking about it. He needed to get up, to walk, fly, or just do something to get the words out of his head. Without telling Filch, he started running with no destination. The only reason he finally stopped was because of the lake and by then he was so out of breath that he was forced to sit. After the dizziness passed, Harry stared into the icy black water that was so smooth he just wanted to reach out and touch it, if only to make ripples on the surface.

When the sun started to set, Harry went back to the school and waited in the entrance hall for the rest of the first years. He didn't have to wait long, soon the hall was filled with excited eleven year olds and he was easily able to blend in. When McGonagall left and the ghosts of appeared to greet the first years, he heard exciting chatter about the sorting, Brandon Potter, a boys lost toad, what houses they wanted to be in, etc. but finally the time came and they were lead into the Great Hall and lined up. Looking around, he noticed Filch giving him a rare public smile and he smiled back in appreciation before taking a deep breath and settling in.

Then the Sorting Hat sang its song:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

94

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as usual and Harry couldn't help but grin. He actually thought that the hat was very talented and frequently looked forward to hearing its poem. Ah well, now the sorting.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted, getting a rise from the Hufflepuffs and a few other houses.

"Bones, Susan!"

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted and again the Hufflepuffs were in an up roar.

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!" The hat crowed and this time the Ravenclaws were the ones making ruckus.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"Slytherin!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"Slytherin!"

"Potter, Brandon!"

The hall seemed to freeze and then it was alive with whispers of the Boy-Who-Lived. Rolling his eyes, he focused on his brother and could tell the obvious changes. His brother had lost a little weight, but he was still fat, not to mention how fat his ego seemed to have gotten.

"Gryffindor!" The Great Hall grew deafening and it took a while for them to quiet down, but that was okay. It just gave Harry more time to gather his courage.

"Potter, Harry!"

This was it, he thought as the hall grew deadly quiet. As soon as the hat was on his head, all hell broke loose in the Great Hall.

' _Hello, Harry.'_

' _Hello.'_

' _I see you like knowledge.'_

' _I do.'_

' _Well, I know just where to put you, better be…'_

"Ravenclaw!" The hat announced as the rest of the hall went completely off. Outrage, joy, jealousy, etc. so many different emotions that the headmaster had to cast a charm just to be heard.

"ENOUGH!" Silence.

The rest of the sorting was followed by silence other than claps. The usual speech that's supposed to follow the sorting wasn't said and the only thing Dumbledore said was his announcement of off limit corridors and a new teacher by the name of Professor Quirrell. Other than that, food was served and they were off to bed. It was quite the anti-climactic evening and by the time Harry was ready for bed, he made sure to write a short letter to Filch before turning off the light and snuggling down in bed.

 _Filch was right,_ he thought sleepily _, it wasn't that bad. I just hope that it's not worse when my other secrets come out._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yea, I know my last chapter was short and I'm sorry but I wrote it at 5AM. That said, from now on each chapter shall be enough bits and pieces from each school year until probably 5th year. I have big plans for this story but I have to know, should I continue it? I know I'm not that good at writing, especially with that first chapter, but do any of you actually like it? *le sigh* Anyway, this story will be going mostly along with cannon, except for the characters and the 3rd & 5th year. Also, if you want a sneak peak of what I'm thinking of for future slash chapters, PM me with questions about it like "When do you think they'll get together?" "How will they get together?" etc.

Warnings: None.

 **October 31** **st** **, 1991**

"Terry! Come on, wakey wakey!" Harry shook his roommate so hard he nearly fell from the bed.

"Harry…" The boy groaned. "It's too early." Terry grumbled.

"Filch and I used to get up at seven A.M. every day, I'm sure you'll live." Harry huffed, rolling his eyes at the Irish boy.

"Yea, well, I don't see why we have to be up this early."

"You and I both know that BWL" -As the Ravenclaws referred to Brandon, so as not to confuse the twins by calling Brandon by his last name- "will be making today into a holiday. I just want to try to eat in peace, so will you wake up Michael while I go get dressed?" Harry gave the brunette the puppy-dog eyes that always worked on Filch.

"Ugh, fine, but you **so** owe me one." To this, Harry grinned.

"I know. Thanks!" Harry called, heading towards the bathroom.

"Hey, Harry?" Terry called and Harry turned.

"Yea, mate?"

"I **really** hate your brother." Terry chuckled while Harry merely smiled.

"I do, too."

Turning, Harry collected his things and took a quick shower. After dressing, Harry was unsurprised to meet Terry and Michael just outside the door.

"Miss me?" He teased and Michael glared while Terry smirked.

"But of course, love!" Terry said dramatically, hugging Harry in fake desperation. "Tis' my love for you that burns brighter than all the stars in the universe; how could I possibly be parted from you for even a second?" Harry laughed and Michael even cracked a smile.

"Okay," Harry said, shrugging the brunette off awkwardly. "We definitely need a drama club. Maybe you should talk to Dumbledore about it?" He chuckled.

"Eh, maybe. I think Hogwarts isn't ready for me." Terry puffed his chest out and Harry and Michael laughed.

"Terry, I think you already know that this school has one big ego, I don't think it's big enough for another." Michael said.

"He's right." Harry echoed and Michael huffed.

The rest of the walk to the Great Hall was silent. Michael was pouting, Terry was tired and trying to stay awake, but Harry was thinking. Michael had hated him from the moment he spoke to Terry the first day of classes. Harry knew it was probably just jealousy, but sometimes Michael's cutting glare hurt almost as much as Brandon's. The young Boy-Who-Lived had made it his purpose to show that he hated Harry, simultaneously falling out of favor with many, though he still was surrounded by fans. The most amusing part was that his brother tried everything to get attention from teachers and students alike, however the amusement had begun to fade as time went on and Brandon got worse. Today, Harry knew, would be quite the spectacle if Brandon had anything to do with it.

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry caught sight of Filch at the Professors table and smiled at him, receiving a small smile back.

"Hey Terry, pass me the eggs." Harry said, sitting down.

"We have potions first, right?" Terry asked, handing the eggs to Harry.

"Yes, though I think classes will be cut short today." Michael replied as Harry groaned.

"Bloody Snape, I swear he's going to fail me for fun."

"Who wouldn't?" Michael sniggered and Harry huffed.

"Michael, leave Harry alone. Did you see Mandy last night?" Terry asked.

"No, and she is **not** my girlfriend." Michael scowled and Terry giggled.

"But she **loves** you." Terry's giggles turned to full out laughter and Harry joined him softly.

"Terry, please. She's driving me crazy." Michael said desperately.

"No, but really, she's crazy. Do you think we should tell Professor Flitwick?" Harry asked calmly.

"No, you can handle it, can't you?" Terry asked.

"Yea, I'll be fine." Michael sighed and began on his cereal.

They ate for a little while longer, but when they heard the distant chatter of BWL's little group, they knew they had to run for it. Ducking into a broom closet, they listened to the inane chatter of the passersby.

"-So then, there I was, all alone with the darkest man alive (well not for long.) He raised his wand and shouted the killing curse, but I didn't even blink. I wasn't scared of him at all; all the guy actually is, is a coward."

"Oh, wow, you're so brave." A girl, Lavender Brown, sighed dreamily.

After the chatter faded, they left the broom closet and Michael stared in the direction the group went.

"Bloody hell, I think he might be worse than you." Michael goggled, but Harry just shrugged.

"Come on, guys. Stop having a moment and let's get to class." Terry huffed.

"But we'll be early and I need to go get my transfiguration homework." Michael whined.

"You guys go, I'm going to go find Filch." Terry and Michael stared at him weirdly before shaking their heads.

"We'll see you later, Harry." Terry grinned.

"See you." Harry replied, walking to Filch's quarters.

"Hey, are you in there, Filch?" Harry said, knocking loudly. The door opened unceremoniously and Filch grinned at him.

"I was wondering if you'd come. Come on in, Harry."

Harry sat down and chuckled when Mrs. Norris climbed on his lap, purring and nuzzling his hand. "I think someone missed me."

"Meow." The cat called lazily while Filch shook his head.

"Bloody cat…so, what's on your mind, Harry? I know you didn't just come to say 'Hello.'"

"Actually, I did. Also, I wanted to know if I could still spend Christmas with you." Harry shuffled his feet some but not enough to jostle Mrs. Norris.

"Christmas is a while away, Harry, but you know I'll always be here for you." His words made Harry relax and smile.

"Yea, but this year is different."

"Not by much." Filch chuckled.

"Well," Harry sighed. "I better get to class but I'll talk to you either tonight or tomorrow."

"That is fine, Harry. Have fun." Harry snorted.

"Right."

He rejoined his friends and the classes flew by. As they were walking to the Great Hall for dinner, there was suddenly a girl in their way.

"Mandy." Michael said, giving Terry a look that pleaded for help.

"Hey Mikey, have you been avoiding me all day?" The chubby girl crossed her arms.

"For Merlin's sake, woman! Of course I bloody have. We are **not** dating!" Mandy stared for a moment before her eyes grew wet and she pushed past them.

"Congratulations, you made a girl cry." Harry huffed.

"Oh, **shut up**." The boy glared, stalking towards the Great Hall. Harry and Terry looked at each other before quickly following.

"Look, I didn't mean to make you mad, but you were a bit harsh with her." Harry said tiredly.

"Yea, I know, it's just that…Merlin knows I don't want to date her and she's trying to force me to." Michael sighed and Terry clapped him on the shoulder.

"Listen, mate, she's not so bad. Maybe you should give her a chance."

"Maybe." There was a few moments of silence between them as they fixed their plates and began eating.

"So, did you see-" Terry started, but was quickly interrupted.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! Just thought you should know…" Quirrell promptly passed out as the students started freaking out.

"Everyone, calm down!" The headmaster shouted as the hall grew silent. "Prefects are to lead their house to the Common Rooms and stay there until further instruction." Immediately, the hall came alive with movement and Harry, Michael and Terry quickly hurried after their house before Harry stopped cold.

"Guys, what about Mandy?" The others stopped, too.

"Where is she?" Terry asked.

"I don't know, let's ask her friends." Harry said, running after the Patil twins. "Hey, have you guys seen Mandy?" The twins glared at him.

"Yea, after you guys made her cry, she went to the bathroom near Snape's classroom." One twin answered.

"Thanks." Harry said turning back to Michael and Terry. "We need to go get her before the troll does." Harry stated and the others nodded.

Hurrying down to the dungeons, Harry cast some spells to detect if the troll was near and, seeing that it wasn't, he and the others treaded with caution. Finally making it to the girls' bathroom, there was a scream and the sound of things shattering. Not thinking, Terry busted into the bathroom, nearly hitting the troll. Harry pulled him back quickly while Michael assessed the situation.

There, sitting under a sink and scared half to death, lay Mandy. Above her there was a large, greenish mountain troll and was raising its large, wooden club to smash the sink Mandy was under.

"No!" Harry cried, wand forward. "Stupefy!" the troll froze but started falling forward. Adrenaline burning through him, he cast the only other thing he could think of. "Wingardium Leviosa!" And just like that, the troll was floating mid-air. Unfortunately, the troll was too heavy to lift alone.

"Terry, go help her up. Michael, cast the charm and hold it with me or I swear I'm going to drop the thing." Harry got out through gritted teeth.

Terry ran over to Mandy and had to pick the injured girl up while Harry and Michael barely maintained the charm on the extremely heavy troll. With the girl out of the way, Harry and Michael counted to three before dropping the spell and letting it thump to the floor loudly, calling attention to them.

"Well, well, well, three young Ravenclaws not following orders." Snape's voice made them jump and Harry was quick to notice the other professors behind him.

"Severus, leave them alone. Now, what happened here?" Professor McGonagall stepped forward while Snape glared at her. Behind them, Quirrell was shaking badly.

"I-I was here, I had been upset earlier and the boys were worried when I wasn't at dinner. They came looking for me when they heard about the troll. They saved me Professor." Mandy said shakily.

McGonagall eyed the quartet for a long moment, before nodding. "Even though you should have told someone, I admire your courage. Ten points each from Ravenclaw, but thirty more points to Ravenclaw." The four students were gob smacked and Snape seemed to be, too. "Now, to your common rooms." They walked out and when Harry passed Quirrell, he noticed that the man's magic seemed to be off. There were two different signatures, which was weird, but the weirdest part of all was that the second signature was…familiar. Shaking his head at the nonsense, he smiled at Quirrell before he left with his classmates.

"Harry?" Terry asked quietly.

"Yea?"

"You don't owe me anymore."

 **December 25** **th** **, 1991**

"WAKE UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!" Harry screamed, jumping up and down on Filch's bed.

"Remind me to lock my bedroom door next Christmas." Filch groaned, yawning.

"But where's the fun in that?" Harry giggled, jumping off the bed and dashing to the sitting room where there were more presents than Harry had ever gotten.

Picking them apart he realized each of his friends had given him a present. Gobly, his first friend, had gifted him with a hand-knit sweater. Filch had gifted him with a 200 galleon gift card to Flourish & Blotts. Terry had gotten him a bag of candy and Michael had even bought him a book about Animangi transformations. Mandy and her parents bought Harry a book case for saving her life and being a friend to her.

Overall, Harry was beyond happy with his gifts. He sent thank you letters to his friends and gave Filch a hug.

"You know, for such a bitter old man, you're alright." Harry grinned at the man who just huffed and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Brat. Go get ready and dress warmly, we're going to have a snowball fight." Harry took off into his room and threw his clothes on. If there was anything he loved more than snow, it would have to be something great because snow was Harry's first love. He loved the icy numbness and the sheer beauty of it.

Dressed and ready to go, Harry raced Filch outside and immediately started building a fort once there. When the fort was finished, Harry collected snow balls, knowing Filch was doing the same. Suddenly, something hard, wet, and cold hit his ear.

"Got you!" Filch cried triumphantly.

"Not for long!" Harry yelled back, throwing several snowballs back.

And so the snowball war started, with laughter and cheating. An hour later found Harry and Filch dripping wet and freezing cold.

"Truce?" Filch coughed.

"Truce." Harry said.

Harry cast a drying and warming charm on them both. At Filch's confused glance, Harry rolled his eyes and replied: "I thought you might not want to have to clean up." Filch nodded.

"Thank you, Harry." Harry shrugged.

"Let's just go eat, I'm half starved."

They walked to the Great Hall in content silence, after all it had been a good holiday. _The only thing that could make today better is if my family actually loved me_ , he thought sadly. As much as he hated his family, all he wanted to do was rush to them and beg for forgiveness for whatever he may have done. _Why can't I stop loving them, even though they treat me like dirt?_

 **June 23** **rd** **, 1991**

Well, the latter half of the year had been fun. Fun being a relative word. Apparently the strange magical signature he'd sensed last Halloween was Voldemort's and Voldemort had been possessing Quirrell. Of course, none of this was found out until BWL and his nosey friends had found out about and retrieved the Philosophers Stone. As the story goes, Brandon had snuck there after realizing what the former professor was up to. Then, braving the treacherous obstacles, he made it to the chamber where Voldemort stood, took the stone, and destroyed the Dark Lord. If that was true or not, Harry didn't know, but what he did know was that his brother was found in the chamber by Dumbledore and he was found having pissed himself.

Other than that, it was pretty boring. He mainly spent his time with Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Mandy Brocklehurst; they were called The Brainy Quartet while his brothers' main group was called The Golden Trio by most. The main three in the trio were Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Brandon Potter. Obviously they were trouble makers, but since Dumbledore let them get away with murder, they were viewed as golden kids.

Golden or not, Harry was thankful to be away from them. The reminder of the life he lost because he didn't defeat the Dark Lord was almost too overwhelming at times. Did he blame Voldemort? No. Did he blame is parents? Yes. Did he blame Dumbledore? Definitely. He wouldn't show it, though. Not until he got to a better place where he could show his contempt.

Sighing, Harry looked out the window. His friends had left for the summer and Draco Malfoy had, for some odd reason, approached him and invited him to Malfoy Manor. Harry had a feeling that Voldemort was behind it but he was curious enough not to be bothered by it. If it had just been Draco trying to be friendly, Harry wondered why he hadn't approached him far earlier. Whatever the reason he was invited, he would go.

Whatever will happen, it would be a chance worth taking.


End file.
